We Live on Borrowed Time
by Ginny3
Summary: Jed and Abbey Post Ep for 2162 Votes
1. Default Chapter

We Live on Borrowed Time

By Ginny

The pride I feel as I watch Jed address the convention is almost overwhelming. It is taking all I have not to be reduced to a blubbering, teary mess right now. At this moment, Jed is poised, energetic, articulate and proud. The only thing marring the perfect scene is the simple wooden cane he's propped up against the side of the podium. It stands there as a reminder of how different things are from when Jed addressed the convention 4 years ago.

It is as if everything has changed and yet nothing has changed.

Physically, Jed has aged much more than 4 years, he's grayer, slower and though he does his best to hide it, he's more fragile in many ways. Yet he speaks now as if nothing in the world is more important than what he's doing at this very moment. And he truly feels that way. At this moment he looks vibrant and healthy. It's amazing what an afternoon nap and a little make-up can do.

In the past few years our family has been through so much, Zoey's kidnapping, tension with Liz and Doug and nearly losing Leo. And that's just the personal stuff. Let's not even get into the political crap we've weathered.

But Zoey is now healthy and happy, standing not 20 feet from me, holding Charlie's hand. She divides her attention between her father and the man who has stood beside her through everything, even when she tried to push him away. No matter what Jed may say, he's thrilled to see Zoey and Charlie back together again.

Liz and Doug are sitting out there somewhere, preferring to watch Jed with the rest of the audience. An uneasy truce has formed between Doug and the rest of the family. I think he realized that he was only thinking of running for that house seat because he thought he could grab the end of Jed's coattails. And then that crap he tried to pull back in New Hampshire was just that...crap. Liz effectively put an end to that when she wrote a personal check to the Matthew Santos campaign. She and Doug worked out their differences; in other words, he realized just how wrong he was. Annie and Gus are great and the whole family is sitting together watching Jed.

Leo's standing off to the side waiting for the announcement that will, most likely, shock many. He did manage to find a few minutes to call Mallory so she won't be one of the shocked. As Jed is nearing the announcement of the Democratic ticket, Leo looks up and gives me a little smile. It's true we've had our differences but a heart attack tends to put things into perspective. We talked a lot this winter and spring. The conversations stemmed out of my hovering over him after the heart attack and Jed after the recurrence of his MS symptoms. But over time, the conversations ended up being less about medical concerns and more about friendship, loyalty and eventually forgiveness. What we each needed to forgive the other for was never quite clear to either of us but there were just things we needed to get past.

And happily, we did.

"...Matthew Vincente Santos and Leo Thomas McGarry." 

And with Jed's words the place erupts into thunderous applause. I give Leo a wink as he heads towards the stage with Matt Santos. He winks back and takes a visible breath as he walks towards Jed. I watch as my husband shakes their hands, picks up his cane and walks off the stage with a huge smile on his face. 

His speedy stride and the smile fade just a little as he steps out of camera range. He leans a little more on his cane and waves off Ron Butterfield, who I assume is asking him if he's ok and if he needs anything. Ron backs off and gives me a smile, effectively turning over the care and keeping of Jed to me as the agents widen their perimeter to give us as much privacy as is possible backstage at the Democratic National Convention.

"You did great," I whisper as I brush back that stray lock of hair from his forehead and pull him into my arms. He doesn't say anything, instead he holds on longer than I had expected. "Jed, sweetie, are you ok?" I ask as I take a step back to get a good look at him. He nods a little and smiles. "Sit for a minute," I suggest as I look around for a chair. Ron, using his well-honed psychic abilities, appears out of nowhere with a folding chair and a bottle of water. Jed sits and drinks a little water.

"I'm just tired," he assures me as he sits down. And I think I believe him. This day has been endless, emotionally and physically exhausting for all, especially Jed. I nearly had to sedate him to get him to rest this afternoon. He finally gave in when I promised him some recreational activities later on. But when I made that promise I had assumed this thing would be over by the time the late news came on...on the East Coast. So much for that assumption.

Jed rests for a few minutes as we watch Matt Santos' acceptance speech on a nearby monitor. I rub his back and he drinks a little more water.

"Mr. President, the motorcade is ready whenever you are," Ron says as Matt Santos and Leo accept another round of thunderous applause. 

"Let's go back to the hotel," I suggest, wanting to get Jed moving before Matt and Leo get off the stage. If the three of them start talking it will be hours before we can get out of here.

"Yeah, sounds good," Jed agrees in a soft, suddenly weary voice. I hand him his cane as the agents move closer. The trip to the car is mercifully short and nobody tries to stop us along the way. As anticipated, Jed is all but asleep when the limo pulls into the underground garage at our hotel.

"Jed, wake up," I say, nudging him just a little. He startles awake and rubs his eyes in a rather adorable fashion, making me wish it wasn't so late and he wasn't so exhausted.

"Good night, Ron."

"Good night, Mr. and Mrs. President. There's an agent outside your door if you need anything," Ron says as he bids us good night. He speaks into his cuff, signing himself off for the night as he heads into his room down the hall. I steer Jed into the room and point him in the direction of the bathroom.

"Wash the make up off, brush your teeth and take your pills," I instruct him as I grab my pajamas out of the dresser. He comes back out a minute later still completely dressed. I guess I left out the part about putting on his pajamas. "Oh no," I mutter as Jed flops onto the bed, shoes and all, and reaches for the remote.

"Please," he whines.

"No way. You turn the television on and you'll be awake for hours. You need some sleep."

"I'm too wired," he complains as he kicks off his shoes and pulls at his tie.

"Wired? You fell asleep on the 5 minute drive back here," I remind him as I help him unbutton his shirt.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. But if you want to go ahead and finish undressing me, I wouldn't mind all that much," he said trying to be suave and charming but the effect is ruined by a massive yawn.

"Yeah, I'm sure you wouldn't mind at all, because you'll be asleep in about 5 minutes," I tease as I pull back the covers. "You want pajamas?"

"This is fine," he mutters as he crawls under the covers in his boxers and t-shirt.

I sit on the edge of the bed put my hand on his chest. "I am so proud of you," I whisper as I kiss him softly.

"Thank you," he sighs as he turns on his side to face me. "I think I need to take a raincheck on the recreational stuff," he whispers as his eyes slide closed.

"That's ok Babe, I'll be here in the morning," I assure him as I pull the covers up a little and tuck him in. 

I brush my teeth and wash my face. By the time I get back into the bedroom, Jed's snoring softly. 


	2. Ch 2

"Jed," I call softly as I reach out for him and find his side of the bed cold and empty. The light in the bathroom is off but there a little light coming from the sitting room. I contemplate just going back to sleep for about 3 seconds. I figure if his side of the bed is cold, he's been up for a while. Just want to make sure he's ok, that he's not sick or brooding with a glass of scotch. "Jed, honey," I call a little louder as I throw on my robe and head for the other room. He's sitting with his back to me and he gives a little wave over his shoulder but doesn't turn around. I walk around to stand in front of him. He's sitting on the overstuffed chair wearing his robe. One of the extra blankets is thrown over his legs and his slippered feet are on the ottoman. A cup of tea sits on the table next to him; I think he's been awake for a while as the tea is barely warm when I take a sip. "Are you ok?" I ask as I climb onto his lap.

"I don't know. I woke up to use the bathroom and couldn't go back to sleep," he explains as he puts his arms around me and shifts my weight a little, trying to get comfortable. "That's better," he sighs.

"You could have woken me up."

"You were sound asleep, you didn't even wake up when I tripped over the desk chair," Jed laughs as he slips his hand inside my bathrobe, pushing up my pajama top to rest his hand against my ribcage. I snuggle closer, pulling the blanket up a little higher.

"So what's really wrong?" I feel him shrug his shoulders and take a deep breath. His normal move when he's stalling for time, trying to get his thoughts in order. "Do you feel ok?" I ask as I reach to feel his forehead. He's nice and cool.

"Yeah. Just feeling a little...I don't know..."

"Tired, old, sad?" I guess as I reach inside his robe and rest my hand on his hip.

"Yeah, something like that. Just seems like it's all downhill from here," he says with a sad laugh.

"Well, Jed to be honest, I wasn't sure you'd make it this far," I admit quietly.

"I know, me either," he whispers. 

I run my hand up his side, stopping when my fingers reach the scar right under his ribcage. I think about how when he was shot, I felt like we were given a second chance, that someone up there wanted us to have more time together.

"When did you start thinking that maybe I'd have to give it all up?" Jed asks curiously a few minutes later.

"On the plane, coming home from China," I reply, shuddering at the memory of Jed passed out cold in the wheelchair. That was a moment I hope to never live through again.

"Yeah. I had visions of you ordering the plane to land in Manchester and just drop us off at the farm," he laughs, a deep, hearty laugh that reverberates through both of us as we're curled up in the chair. He hasn't laughed enough lately, I miss that sound.

"It had crossed my mind. But I knew there was no reason for us to think that you wouldn't recover."

"I didn't recover completely," he says as he points to the cane that is hooked over the arm of the chair. "Do you think I'll ever get rid of it?"

"Honestly?" He nods a little. "Probably not." Jed sighs but I don't think he's surprised at my answer. He has used the cane before after an "episode" but he could usually get rid of it after a week or two. This time it's been months and while he's come a long way, I don't think he'll come back fully. And I think that's the way it's going to be from now on. I expect that with each future episode he'll take longer to recover and not quite come all the way back. But he doesn't ask me for any more predictions so I don't give them. One day he'll ask and I'll be honest. But until then, my predictions will remain my own.

"We live on borrowed time," he whispers out of the blue as he kisses the top of my head.

"Can't smile without you," I mutter back.

"Huh?" Jed asks as he gives me a strange look.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were listing Barry Manilow songs," I tease, trying to lighten the mood a little

"Cute," he says with a grin before returning to his vague brooding state. 

So much for lightening the mood.

"We do, live on borrowed time, I mean. And each day is a gift."

"And we don't know how many gifts we have left," Jed whispers. I hold him tight, resting my head on his chest. I can both feel and hear his breath catch as his emotions finally get the best of him. He rests his chin on the top of my head for a minute, trying to keep from completely falling apart. I reach to wipe the tears from his face and his silent tears dissolve into hiccupping sobs. I scoot up a little to sit on the arm of the chair, putting my bare feet on the opposite arm. Jed leans his head back; curling up in the corner of the chair. I run my fingers through his hair. I can't help but notice how gray it's gotten lately.

Somehow I manage to hold my own emotions in check as Jed cries like he hasn't cried in years. I'm not sure what exactly brought all this on, but at this point, that's not really all that important. Making him feel safe and loved is what matters.

When his tears slow I pull a tissue out of the pocket of my robe. "Is it clean?" he asks with a little laugh as stares at the crumpled blue tissue.

"More or less," I answer with a smirk. He wipes his face and blows his nose. "Feel better now?" I ask as I carefully take the tissue from him and toss it on the coffee table.

"Yeah. I'm surprised I held everything in that long," he muses as he pulls me back down onto his lap. "I have no idea where that came from," he mutters against my neck.

"It's been a long few days, you're exhausted, jet-lagged..."

"And let's not forget, old and soon to be unemployed," he adds with a laugh.

"I prefer the term "retired"," I tease as I slide off his lap and stand up. "Come back to bed." Jed lets me pull him to his feet and he reluctantly takes the cane I hold out for him.

We curl up under the covers, facing each other in the dark and quiet of the room. Jed tucks on hand under his head and reaches out for me with the other. I kiss his fingertips and tuck his hand against my cheek. It's only a few minutes before I hear his breathing even out and he falls back to sleep. I roll over a little and in his sleep Jed moves closer to me. He puts his head on my shoulder and I hold him tight. 

The tears I held in earlier flow silently so I don't wake him up again. I know I put on a brave front most of the time, but there are days, days like this, that I'm plain terrified about what the future holds. All I know is, we'll face things together, just as we have for 40 years.

I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my pajamas and snuggle deeper under the blankets. I plant a kiss on Jed's forehead and close my eyes, hoping to fall asleep as quickly as he did.

But as I could have predicted, that doesn't happen.

Phrases from the song run through my head, words I don't think I've heard for years, but somehow can recall with ease.

We live on borrowed time,

The future's in God's hands,

Yesterday is past, tomorrow seems a million miles away,

Now we may have a year, or we may have a lifetime,

Let's celebrate and sing as we walk bravely into the unknown,

We'll face it all together and we'll never be alone.

For over ten years I've had the feeling that we've been living on borrowed time, we've been fighting back against MS, against time, against fate and against the unknown. But faith in each other and faith in God has helped to grow stronger in the face of uncertainty.

And that faith will continue, after we've gone back to Washington, after the election and after we leave the White House on January 20th. That day will be the end of a very long chapter, but not the end of our lives. 

We still have a lot more living to do and every day is precious...especially since we've living on borrowed time.

THE END 


End file.
